


Finding Closure/Opening Doors

by whiskersthemouse



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Afterlife, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canonical Character Death, Family, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Ghosts, Good Parent Joyce Byers, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-18 01:06:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11863449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiskersthemouse/pseuds/whiskersthemouse
Summary: "When you thought about it really, the rules of the afterlife were so arbitrary. At least, that’s what it seemed like when you were stuck in limbo."Barb Holland is stuck haunting the last person to see her alive until her unfinished business is complete. But how can you do that when you're intangible and the person you're haunting has no idea you're even there?





	1. Limbo

**Author's Note:**

> First work in this fandom and unbeta'd, so forgive typos! This will probably have ~5 chapters and hopefully I'll be able to update on a bi-weekly schedule.

**Chapter 1**

**Limbo**

 

_When you thought about it really, the rules of the afterlife were so arbitrary. At least, that’s what it seemed like when you were stuck in limbo._

 

Barbara sighed as the thought rolled itself around in her head again. _Could be worse, I could be stuck in the spot where I died, forever. In that rotting place with vines and slugs crawling everywhere. Alone._ No, instead she was suffering from her unfinished business here. She glanced around the room, the dirty laundry piled in its basket, the desk strewn with textbooks, the closet door slightly ajar; a pair of sneakers keeping it from closing. _Why here?_ She sighed exasperatedly and glanced at the figure sitting cross-legged with their back against the headboard, _Why him?_ Shaggy brown hair with bangs hanging low over sunken eyes, worrying at his lip, drumming his pencil along to whatever music was playing from his radio. _Why did Jonathan Byers have to be the last person to see me before I died?_

Barb floated across the room idly, passing through the closed door to gaze around the hallway. _You haunt the person who last saw you alive, until either they die or your unfinished business…resolves._ That seemed to be it, as far as she could figure. It hadn’t made sense at first why she couldn’t be more than a mile from Jonathan before she just reappeared next to him. Why she first came back into awareness hearing his voice. She couldn’t honestly remember seeing him anytime recently, aside from watching him tack up the poster for his missing brother in the hallway at school. She’d spent so many hours musing, floating around the Byers’ household, puzzling it over in her mind. It was only when she was able to go to Nancy’s room one of the times Jonathan had stopped in to pick up Will, to find her friend pouring over a taped up picture that Barb had realized. It was a covert shot, obviously taken at a distance in low light. She remembered sitting on that diving board, staring down at her bleeding hand and feeling quite sorry for herself. Hoping that Nancy would realize how stupid she was being and come out and ask Barb to take her home. Where Nancy would cry that her friend was right, that Steve Harrington was a jerk who only wanted into her pants, and Barb would console her and remind her that boys were stupid and that they should just focus on their joint goal to go to Berkley.

Instead a thing from another place had grabbed her, pulled her into some terrible reflection of their world and made her body a nest for its spawn. And the person who saw her last had been somewhere in the woods, beyond the tree line of the Harrington property, rewinding his film while she was dragged down, vision blurred, screaming for help. She’d been so angry with him at first, blinded by the fury of the un-righteously passed, wanting to claw at the heartbeat within his chest and feel it’s warmth in her breast. Why couldn’t it have taken him? But those thoughts had been swept away just as fast as they’d overtaken her, to be replaced with this unerring monotony of being dead but unfulfilled. It wasn’t his fault she’d be targeted by the monster, not his fault at all. And while she would call him creepy for having peeped at them all, she understood what it was like to stand on the outside and look in. To watch the prototypical teenagers drinking, partying, and living out something like American Graffiti. She knew if she’d had the chance, she would have watched too. Would have preferred to look in from the outside and judge the teens for their poor life choices and lack of responsibility. Barb didn’t belong there, with the Carols, the Tommys, the Steves, she was an outsider, a geek, the one who overheard the gossip about drinking and sex, not the one in the thick of anything. It wasn’t like she was really part of the party anyways, she’d barely had any beer, couldn’t even begin to think of a topic to talk to Carol about while Nancy and Steve flirted. She’d just sat there, awkwardly, wishing she were anywhere else.

Now she ached at the thought she could be sitting there again. Feeling the warm humidity on her face, smelling the chlorine, and staring up at the stars. Debating which book to write her next report about. _I had decided to write about Madame Bovary_. But no, she had died with unfinished business, and she was haunting Jonathan Byers, the last person to see her alive.

Although haunting didn’t seem to be the right word either. As far as she could tell he wasn’t aware of her presence. She’d tried to get his attention at first, screaming his name, flailing her hands in front of his face, even flying through his body (which had caused him to shiver and given him goosebumps). Nothing she did seem to make him notice her, say her name, react in any way really, except to shrug deeper into his sweater/jacket/blanket whenever she was close enough to touch him. Not that there was any sensation for her at all, but sometimes when she was feeling spiteful or curious she’d reach out her hand and touch his arm and watch him glance at his window, his eyebrows knitted in confusion at what she supposed must’ve seemed like a strange burst of cold air.

She glided into Will’s room, glancing at the drawings that were taped up around it. His room was always much tidier than his brother’s. She found that she liked Will, at least from what she’d seen. He was lost in that place for days and she knew that he saw it when he closed his eyes. The drawings he crumpled and hid in the bottom of his desk drawer, the creatures he spat up whenever a coughing spasm hit him too violently. He and that place were fiercely intertwined, and it didn’t seem to be letting him go anytime soon. He’d seen her, once, in the bathroom mirror. Well, he saw her worst form, the empty eye sockets and wide open mouth, lips blue and skin white. Whenever she felt particularly indignant her form would resemble that of what it looked like now, in that dimension, decomposing amongst the vines. She’d been so angry, so consumed by her envy of this boy, who had survived for days in that place where she had only lasted minutes. His startled gasp had drawn her attention to the mirror and she’d seen herself in the reflection with him, his eyes wide and terrified as she hovered behind him. His whimper as he’d turned around to look directly at her, through her, had caused her rage to dissipate and she stared into his face as he furtively glanced around the room, breath coming in hazy gasps before facing the mirror again; her visage gone from its surface. She’d been so remorseful she’d avoided him for days. He had excellent taste in literature she noted as she once again perused his bookcase, wishing not for the last time that she could affect physical objects. _If I could just read, it would be so wonderful. Just pull down that worn copy of A Swiftly Tilting Planet and retread the familiar story._

Will was curled up on his bed, having fallen asleep with a copy of Return of the King. She smiled fondly down at him, watching the rise and fall of chest. She had been envious of his survival at first but she understood that the circumstances were different, that he had been able to escape and run and  hide, whereas she had been trapped in an empty pool, unable to see, and desperately trying to climb that ladder. At least someone **had** survived in that dismal place and he was so young and innocent. He whimpered quietly, his brows furrowing, and he rolled to his other side. Barb sighed as she watched, wishing she could offer any sort of comfort but knowing that her touch would be more disturbing than soothing.

Each of the Byers had their own demons that chased after them in their dreams. Will spent most of his time whimpering or singing that song that she’d once heard on her brother’s radio. Sometimes he called out for his mother or brother and usually on those nights he’d awaken and tiptoe his way to one of their rooms. Mrs. Byers usually took some sort of pills to help her sleep, but on the nights that she forget, she would spend it crying out Will’s name, mumbling about rescuing him. But sometimes Barb had also heard her whispering the number 11 with tears crawling down her cheeks. Jonathan would also spend his nights writhing in his sheets, or looking for his brother, Will’s name reverberating off his poster covered walls and his brow soaked with sweat and eyes clenched. More interestingly, at least to Barb, was when he would speak Nancy’s name with the same urgency, telling her to follow his voice or fiercely affirming his presence. Barb had no idea what that was from, but she felt that it was pulled from reality rather than the recesses of his subconscious.

Sometimes she felt bad for her added presence in the household, it seemed like the family dealt with enough of their own ghosts and the addition of an accidental one just seemed unfair. But it was what it was, and until Barb’s business was finished, she was stuck orbiting Jonathan Byers’ life. She only wished she knew exactly _what_ it was that was unfinished. Oh sure, she could assume it was because her death was untimely or violent but that didn’t quite seem to fit as she had come to terms with both of those realities during the long hours she had spent floating around an increasingly familiar household. _Ghosts don’t need to sleep_. She was conscious every hour of the day and without anything else to do except contemplate her existence, Barb had come to terms with her death. _Mostly_. She still wished she could just see her mother or father, talk to them, and tell her brothers she missed them. As the youngest by a long shot, she hadn’t had as much time to spend with her brothers before they were both off into the world, college and the army and starting their own families. _I missed the birth of my niece_. _I was so excited to finally have another girl in the family. I was going to be the best aunt ever_. Barb skimmed over Will’s body, which still thrashed in his bed, his book falling to the floor with a soft thump. _Ok, maybe I haven’t totally come to terms with my death. But how exactly is haunting Jonathan going to help me? Why curse me with this existence? Haven’t I already suffered enough?_

But no one answered her, not that they ever did. She believed in heaven, her Catholic mother having drilled into her head the need to confess her sins, follow God’s will and meet St. Peter at the pearly gates. But there was no voice of God, no heaven’s gate or even any angels. Hell, she’d settle for Satan at this point. Something other than this empty, lonely not-life. What where all those Sunday hours good for now? _Patience, obviously God has a plan_. She just wished she understood it. At least if she could be omniscient, or blessed with some other gift that afforded the dead wisdom they always seemed to have in stories, she could feel more in control. This just felt like a test on a subject she hadn’t studied, and where there were no questions, just empty spaces where her answers should go. _I’m not Job_ , she thought bitterly as she once more found herself in the hallway with a scorched patch in the rug; _I’m just a teenager._

A kind older voice, grizzled from years and cigarette smoke echoed through her head “Chin up Barbie! Let’s not forget our most important tool to fixing your troubles, your brain.” Barb allowed a small smile to play across her lips. _Oh Pop-pop, how can I keep my chin up in a state like this?_ But her grandfather would have merely smiled enigmatically and told her to start thinking. She remembered being younger, about 5 or 6, and curling up in his lap while he would explain the mysteries of the world. Whether it was astronomy, biology, mechanical engineering, or botany, her grandfather had seemed to know everything. He was a scholar by nature, devouring as many books as possible. He’d managed to avoid major injuries in both World Wars, although they’d left him with a penchant for melancholy. _If only I could move on, then I’d be able to at least be with him._ She heard a door creak open and watched Will’s figure emerge from his room, his face pale and drawn as he walked to Jonathan’s door and knocked. Jonathan opened it within seconds and moved aside to let Will in. Barb drifted in right behind him.

“Hey,” said Jon’s quiet voice, shoving his notebook aside to allow his brother to sit on the bed. “Want to talk about it or just listen to some music?” They’d settled into a routine, the two brothers. Jonathan had seemed to learn by now that whatever woke Will up at night was not something the younger wanted to discuss. So instead he’d merely ask if the boy wanted to talk, offering him a choice. Barb could see that Will appreciated the gesture, as she was sure Joyce’s anxious “what’s wrong baby?” that wobbled out every so often would get old fast.

“Music.” Will nodded and looked over his brother’s scrawl in his notebook. “Pre-calc?”

“Yup. Only the most exciting homework there is.” Jon’s lips tilted up in a tiny smirk as he rose and walked to his radio. “Anything in particular? I was thinking of putting on some Bowie.” Will smiled in return and nodded “Yeah sure, can we listen to Starman?”

“Of course!” Jonathan smiled at Will before rifling through his tapes. “I can never say no to a classic.” Will’s return smile brightened his whole face as he relaxed on his brother’s bed, tension falling off his shoulders. Barb enjoyed watching the siblings interact. Maybe it was because she’d missed out on the close relationship with her own brothers, or watching Nancy and Mike snipe at each other, but watching two siblings who seemed to actually just enjoy each other’s company felt like a rare gift to see. As the music began Barb thought she recognized it, but then again her musical tastes tended to fall with old show-tunes. Still, it wasn’t bad and she could appreciate Jonathan’s taste. He settled back onto his bed and opened his notebook again to resume his homework, Will at his side, leaning against him, watching his pencil scratch out equations on the lined paper.

Eventually Will was lulled to sleep and the tape ran out, Jonathan deposited his notebook on his desk, flipped open to his work, before getting up to slip out of his jeans and turn off the radio. He always left his desk lamp on, which Barb would have deemed childish if not for the fact that she knew he’d seen the monster that killed her climb out of his ceiling and tackle him to the ground. A nightlight seemed necessary after something like that. She turned away as he reached for his fly, glancing over his notebook. She may have been forced to haunt him, but she still wanted to give him some privacy. _Number 3 is wrong, he transposed two of the numbers._ The rest of his work looked good enough, maybe he’d catch it in the morning. She turned around again to watch him gently place Will’s head on his pillow before stretching out, his arm against his brother’s providing warmth while also maintaining some distance between the two. Which immediately closed as Will shuffled under his arm and snuggled into his side. Barb smiled as she floated out of the room once more. _Guess it’s time to see how Chester’s doing._

She supposed it was odd, a ghost befriending a dog. But he was the only creature in the household that seemed to know she was there. He’d started off barking at her whenever she was around, but gradually he’d become accustomed to her and now he would merely glance at her before resuming whatever he was doing. Tonight it was lying on the couch. _Another long night ahead._ She thought dimly, deciding to spend the night gliding around the outside of the house. Even if she couldn’t actually stop anything bad from happening, she could at least affect Chester enough to alert the family if she spotted any danger. This was her self-appointed mission, guarding the sleeping family from any dangers that lurked outside the home. _An invisible guardian_. At least it gave her a purpose. 

After she’d seen the first inklings of the sun beginning to rise, she re-entered Jonathan’s room in time for his alarm clock to chime. He groggily switched off the appliance and rose from the bed. Will mumbled unintelligibly and rolled over, burying his face deeper into the pillow. Jonathan smiled gently and ruffled his brother’s hair before getting dressed. Barb knew the morning routine by now. Both Joyce and Jonathan would rise first, Jonathan making breakfast and Joyce putting herself together (mostly) before one of them would wake Will up in time to eat before he had to leave for school. It was pleasantly domestic. Barb’s morning routine used to consist of grabbing coffee from the pot in the kitchen, her father having already left and her mother puttering around the house in between handing Barb some toast and baking whatever latest batch of cookies she would bring to the nursing home.  Barb always left first, kissing her mother on the cheek before grabbing her keys and driving off.

“Hey, last day of school before Christmas break!” Joyce said cheerfully as Will slid into his chair, plate of eggs and toast already in front of him. _Is it really Christmas time already?_ Barb thought as Jonathan sat down bringing a glass of orange juice to his lips and Will nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, Mike’s already planned a campaign for this weekend, he promised even more twists and turns this time.”

“Oh boy, well I’m sure whatever he has planned, Will the Wise can take on anything.” Joyce smiled at her youngest. Will simply nodded in return, his mouth full. “Just make sure he ends it in time for dinner ok? I’m going to finally make the potatoes right, I promise.” This received a chuckle from both boys, who shared a glance across the table.

“Don’t worry Mom, I’ll pick Will up with plenty of time ok?” Joyce turned her smile on Jonathan and nodded before glancing at her watch.

“Oh damnit!” She shot up from the table and began running around, grabbing her work vest and purse. _Keys are on the bookshelf_. Barb thought to herself and Joyce began her morning search. “Have either of you seen my keys? I’m going to be late!”

“Did you check the couch and the bookshelf?” Asked Jonathan as he gathered up her plate with his and moved to the sink. Joyce snatched her keys from their place before rushing to the door.

“Don’t be late for school! Call me at the store if you’re going to the Wheelers, ok Will?”

“Ok mom.” And with that Joyce was out the door in a flurry of motion. Barb could hardly think of a time when the woman seemed calm. Jonathan and Will moved at a more sedate pace before both collected their backpacks and headed out to the car. _Just another school day._ Barb hovered in the backseat as the car headed down the road, guitar and drums blaring from the radio. Will called goodbye over his shoulder as he jumped out in front of the middle school, waving to his group of friends who huddled out front. Barb’s eyes settled on Mike, his smile wasn’t as carefree as she remembered and she wondered what had happened to him during that awful week. She would have assumed Will’s return would have bounced him back to his usual self. _So many holes in the timeline._ She moved to the front seat as Jonathan pulled away from the school, tapping his fingers absentmindedly. _Even if I wasn’t dead, I think the car would be just as devoid of human conversation_. Barb mused to herself. While she had never been chatty, Barb knew that compared to the sullen teenager in the driver’s seat she’d seemed downright boisterous. Barb had experimented with talking aloud during the early part of her haunt but had given up on it rather quickly. _I may be dead, but I’m not insane and I sure don’t need to sound like it._

At least now was the most fun time of her after-life. While Jonathan was at school, Barb was free to roam around, sit in on her old classes, or even explore parts of the school closed off to students. The teachers’ lounge wasn’t all that interesting but she had discovered that Coach Johnson and Miss Kelly were having an affair; their typical meet up spot being the lighting booth in the school’s theater. She followed Jonathan into the school, making her way to Nancy’s locker as was her morning routine. Nancy wore her “keeping it together” smile that Barb was used to seeing by now. Whereas before, that smile had been infrequent and usually reserved for when her mother and father had one of their passive aggressive spats, now it was her default smile. Barb didn’t tend to dwell on this, as whenever she began to think about Nancy her feelings tended to cycle into a hurricane of resentment, sadness, vindictiveness, and yearning. Barb knew that her decomposing form was on full display whenever she saw Nancy. It never stopped her from being drawn to her locker like a moth to a flame. She watched as Nancy read through her flash cards, mumbling to herself before Steve Harrington appeared to clasp her around the shoulders. Barb could never feel anything but hate for Steve, no matter how irrational she knew it was. Steve had done nothing to her, but she knew she blamed him second most for her death.

Steve smiled at Nancy and brushed a kiss against her forehead. “Stop worrying, you’re going to ace this final. You’ve been studying all week.” Nancy leaned into Steve and Barb watched some of the tension melt from her small frame. Barb wasn’t sure what had occurred between the two, but it was obvious that there was something closer and deeper between them. Steve’s face also sported some impressive yellowing bruises and scrapes, the leftovers from Jonathan of all people. Barb had heard Will and Jonathan whispering about the fight during one of the nights Will slept in his bed. She remember the older boy informing Will that violence really wasn’t the answer, although Will’s eyes shone with a sort of worship that belied his solemn nod. “Now comeon, let’s get you to class early enough so you can get your pencils arranged just right.” Steve’s tone was more affectionate than mocking, which caused Nancy to playfully punch him in the shoulder before the both walked toward Mrs. Buckley’s classroom. _And the world spins on._

The day carried on, a hum of excitement in the air as the students seemed ready to bolt as soon as the final bell rang. Barb sat in on all of her own classes, her old desk still vacant. Her mood continued to sour as time wore on. _I’m going to miss Christmas._ She thought bitterly as she followed Jonathan to his car. _I’m going to miss Mass, and Nan’s ham, Uncle Charlie’s casserole, all of it!_ She glared at the boy in the driver’s seat. _And I have to go to his job with him tonight and tomorrow! No baking gingerbread with mom. I never even got to decorate the tree or hang the stockings._ Jonathan reached over and put his hands over the car’s vents. Barb realized she could see his breath. She stared out the window and managed to car a glimpse of herself, she looked frightening. She knew she ought to stop wallowing but found that she couldn’t. If she could cry, she’d be sobbing. _I just want to read How the Grinch Stole Christmas with Maxie._ Her nephew was still young enough to love his nickname and Barb had hoped this year he’d be able to read some of the words, snuggled up in the arm chair, hot cocoa with marshmallows on the end table. The car pulled into the parking lot of the electronics store and Jonathan turned off the car and entered the store at a brusque pace. _I want to go home._ She felt as though her heart was seizing in her chest as she followed the boy who anchored her in this living hell.

Barb remained bitter the entire night and following morning, and with that bitterness came a chill that all present could feel. The Byers were bundled into heavy clothes and Will was swathed in the coziest comforter the family owned. “Are you sure the heat’s not broken?” Will mumbled, his breath huffing out visibly. Joyce, who seemed even more harried than usual nodded her head.

“Yes, I’m sure, I’m even having Hopper come over and check it out. Are you positive you closed the door last night?” This question was aimed at Jonathan, who looked the worst. Barb had spent most of the night floating in and out of his bedroom, as if she were pacing.

“No, I closed and locked it last night. Besides, it’s not even that cold out. The thermostat said 30 when I checked last night.” He stood up from the table, clearing his plate and gathering his things. “I have to get to work, I’ll pick you up at 6, ok Will?” The younger boy mumbled in agreement and Barb followed Jonathan out the front door. She knew that they were all suffering because of her, but she couldn’t seem to stop feeling this way. All she could do was repeat everything she was missing in a litany through her head.

The sight of everyone doing last minute shopping eventually wore her down. Or maybe it was that her heart couldn’t take it anymore. She settled into a melancholy. _This is the way things are now, I have to watch everyone enjoy and move on, while I remain as I am, forever. There’s no hope. I’m tired of looking on the bright side of death._ She sunk deeper into her malaise until she could barely muster the will to move herself around the store. She knew several people had accidentally walked through her, but the blistering cold that had emanated from her was mostly gone. At least, judging by the fact that she could no longer see anyone’s breath within the store. After his shift ended and he exited the store, she remained, unwilling to move. She allowed herself to be dragged by Jonathan as he sat in his car and pulled away, which was not a pleasant feeling. It was as if she was slingshot to wherever he was if she got too far away, but at this point she had no motivation to move whatsoever.

They arrived at the Wheelers’ in silence. Barb followed Jonathan into the foyer but stayed there while he continued on into the basement. The decorations just seemed to be taunting her and she could spot the glittering of the lights on the tree from the living room. She could remember the hours she’d spent in this house, going through all the different ornaments with Nancy. There were even a few ornaments they’d made together in Girl Scouts. The Holland family Christmas tree had matching ornaments hanging from its branches.

As Jonathan and Will moved to leave Nancy’s voice echoed down the stairs. Suddenly, Barb had an odd feeling, like there was a strange tension in the air. She watched as Nancy handed a wrapped box to Jonathan and they exchanged a few words. The tension twisted more, it seemed like Barb was surrounded by static and it reached the heaviest when Nancy brushed the briefest kiss against Jonathan’s cheek. Barb felt as if she were holding her breath as her whole body prickled. _What is this?_

She followed the Byers’ to Jonathan’s car and moved into the backseat. She was hyperaware now, the fog of gloom having disappeared in an instant. Will asked if he could open the present and it felt as if the world had stopped. Everything seemed like it was poised on a knife’s edge. As Will opened the package and pulled out the camera box; she watched as a smile broke across Jonathan’s face and suddenly she felt a jolt. As if somewhere, somehow, a gear had returned to motion from a long stagnation. Her world was moving again, but she could tell that something had shifted. Barb felt a surge of hope, so strong and vibrant it was intoxicating. _I don’t know how I know, but I know that I’m a step closer._ She couldn’t fathom why this event was so significant to helping her settle whatever still caused her to cling to this world, but she would do anything to figure out how to move further in the right direction. _Chin up indeed Pop-pop, I’ll be joining you soon._ She smiled. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas comes and goes, and Barb is reminded of a happy moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so, I still am not suuuper happy with this chapter but after fighting with it for this long, I am satisfied. We fought tooth and nail this entire time and Barb and Will both had more they wanted to say. Sorry about this being late, I promise the next chapter will come sooner and will include more action!

Barb flitted back and forth between the living room and the kitchen, barely paying attention to the family seated around the table. _What is it about the camera?_ It wasn’t about the gift itself, or even the kiss on the cheek (since when did Nancy do that?). No, things had only changed after Jonathan saw the camera. _I wish I could just talk to him and figure this out._ She continued to run scenarios over in her head long after everyone had finished eating and had settled into the living room.

Will shook several of his gifts, chattering happily to his mother and brother as Joyce smiled brightly at him and Jonathan continued to snap photographs. Barb’s bad mood was gone and she found herself settling into a happier feeling, watching the family seem truly joyful for the first time in her ghostly existence. They all watched Miracle on 34th Street on the Byers’ television, Will snuggled on the couch between his mother and brother, his head pillowed on Joyce’s lap and his leg resting atop Jonathan’s. Chester lay lounging at their feet. As the movie transitioned to A Christmas Carol, Will had fallen asleep. Joyce gently stroked his hair as Jonathan draped a blanket over his brother and himself, handing a second one to his mother which she wrapped around her shoulders. As the movie played, Joyce turned her head towards Jonathan and whispered.

“New camera?” Jonathan replied with a nod, glancing at the gadget on the coffee table. “Did you buy it yourself?” She continued.

Jonathan vigorously shook his head. “No. It was sort of a gift.”

“Sort of a gift?”

“Yeah-Nancy gave it to me. I think she and Steve got it.” He bit his lip and dropped his chin down so that his fringe covered his eyes in shadow. Joyce’s eyes opened wide.

“Steve…Harrington? The boy you beat up?”

“The one who saved me and Nancy with a baseball bat, yeah.” Joyce nodded thoughtfully.

“That was very nice of them.” She glanced at him pensively.

“I don’t know how I’m going to give them something back that’s worth as much.” He glumly replied.

“You’ll think of something. I’m sure whatever you decide will be good enough.” She glanced at him and waited until he looked up at her. “And if it’s not, just clock him again.” He snorted loudly and then clapped his hands over his mouth to stifle his laughter as Joyce grinned at him. Barb was thankful that her loud bark of a laugh was inaudible to everyone else. Joyce leaned over and ruffled Jon’s hair affectionately and then patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry so much about it. Tomorrow is Christmas and I can’t wait to see Will’s face.” Jonathan nodded back at her, smiling.

“Yeah he’s gonna go crazy. It’ll be great.” All eyes focused on Will, whose sleeping face was serene for once.

“Oh yes, I’m sure he’s the _only_ one who’ll go crazy over it.” She rolled her eyes at Jonathan who smirked back.

“Hey, he gets the high scores at the arcade. But it will be something we can all use together.” Joyce scoffed.

“Oh right like I’ll be able to figure out that newfangled thing.”

“I’m sure he’ll teach you, it can’t be that hard.” Joyce rolled her eyes at her son once more before relaxing further into the couch.

“We’ll see.” She smiled and turned her attention to the TV just as the Ghost of Christmas Past appeared. Peaceful silence descended on the room’s occupants once more and Barb felt at ease again. She had felt another stirring in the air, another cog had shifted back into place. She felt herself get sucked into the movie and relished this new feeling.

When the movie’s credits rolled along on the TV, Barb watched Joyce shift to glance to her right, Jonathan had fallen asleep sometime during the movie. His hands resting on his brother’s legs and his chin touching his chest. Joyce smiled and nudged his shoulder gently with her hand. He groggily glanced around and rubbed his eyes. “I think it’s time for bed.” Joyce said quietly, her voice breaking the peaceful silence. Jon smiled blearily back at her and nodded, shifting Will’s legs so that he could stand up and stretch. After making sure he was steady on his feet, he bent over and picked Will up with Joyce helping support his head. The younger boy didn’t even open his eyes, just groaned groggily.

“Wha-?” He mumbled as he grasped the front of his brother’s shirt. Jon and Joyce both shared a smirk.

“No worries Bud. Just bringing you to bed. It’s more comfortable than the couch.”

“’M’ comfy right here.” Came his reply as he tried to bury his face further into Jon’s shirt. Barb snorted as Joyce and Jonathan shared another amused look.

“I’m not a bed either.” Jon slowly walked towards Will’s room as the boy huffed out a sigh.

“You could be if you tried harder.”

“You’re lucky I can’t tickle you right now.” At this reply Will’s eyes opened a sliver. “You wouldn’t dare!” Suddenly Joyce reached out and wiggled her fingers against his side. Will let out a yelp and started squirming. “No fair! You can’t gang up on me!” Joyce laughed as Jonathan stumbled and tried to retain his hold.

“Well you shouldn’t dare if you aren’t willing to pay the price.” She laughed and clapped Jon on the back after he regained his footing. The trio finally made it to Will’s bedroom and he was unceremoniously dumped on top of his comforter with a mild “Hey!”

“You’re getting too big for this Will, next thing I know you’ll be taller than me.” Jonathan smiled at him and gave him a small push on his shoulder. “Don’t wake me up before 8 ok?” Will nodded up at his brother. Joyce rumpled his hair.

“And no waking me up before 10.” Both boys rolled their eyes and muttered “Yes Mom.” Before Jonathan and Joyce exited Will’s room and closed the door. Jon headed towards his room; casting off a “Good night Mom,” over his shoulder as he entered and closed the door. Barb glided out to the living room and basked in the glow of the lights on the tree.

~*~

In the morning, once all members of the family were awake, excitement abounded. Barb watched as Will happily whooped with joy when he opened his new Atari, Jonathan’s smile nearly splitting his face as he looked at his newest cassettes, and Joyce couldn’t hold back her tears as she pulled both boys closer after opening her present, an oval locket on a long silver chain that contained both their pictures. Other small gifts included a hat Jonathan had seen his brother admiring, a pair of leather gloves from Joyce to her eldest, and a deep maroon shawl with a knitted stripe of navy along the bottom (“You’re ALWAYS cold Mom”) from both boys. Will had also presented his mother and brother with drawings that both admired greatly. What followed was a pancake breakfast and figuring out how to actually hook up the Atari to the family’s television. 

After his fifteenth win in a row, Will stood up and stretched his legs while Jonathan fell backward so that he was sprawled on the ground. While he was stretching, Will glanced at his watch. “Oh hey it’s almost 4. Can I go to Mike’s? Lucas and Dustin are supposed to get there at 4:30 so we call all exchange presents.”

Joyce brought her head up from the book she had been reading. “Are you sure the Wheelers will be alright with that? I know Karen’s parents always come for lunch.” Will nodded vigorously.

“Yeah Mike said he already asked his mom, she just said to not stay later than 8.” Jon groaned as he slowly stood up.

“I can give you a ride just let me get my fingers back in working order.” He massaged his hands and smiled at his brother.

“Awesome I gotta go get their presents!” The young boy scrambled to his bedroom. Barb smiled at his enthusiasm, remembering how exciting it was when she started actually picking out and giving presents to her friends and family. Her heart clenched painfully, _how does something ephemeral hurt so much?_ She quickly cast those thoughts aside as she caught the end of a conversation between Joyce and Jonathan.

“…maybe try that little shop down on the corner, Foote’s? Did you forget to get your grandmother something?” Jonathan shook his head, biting his bottom lip and rolling it between his teeth before looking at Joyce and answering.

“I have an idea about something to give Nancy.” Joyce smiled at her son.

“Well let me know if you need any help, ok?” Jonathan nodded at her and turned to grab his keys off of the counter in the kitchen. _Damn, I wish I had been paying more attention._ Barb could feel the slightest twinge in the air that meant whatever Jonathan was planning, it was relevant to her freedom. _And it’s not like I can just ask._ She floated closer to the front door and felt a sudden impact as Will came racing down the hallway and right through her. He shivered slightly before dropping the wrapped gifts next to his mother on the couch and turning to grab his coat.

“Need a bag?” Joyce quirked her eyebrow at her youngest.

“Here.” Jonathan walked over, holding a plastic garbage bag in his hands and began scooping up the gifts.

“Thanks!” Will replied happily, taking the now full bag from his brother and shoving on his boots. “Let’s go before Dustin gets distracted by Mrs. Wheeler’s fruit cake!” He bounced up and down on the pads of his feet as finished his sentence.

“Yeah, ok, like he’d ever not be distracted by her fruit cake.” Jonathan rolled his eyes as he opened the door. “Wanna bet on how many slices he’ll eat this time?” Barb followed the boys out the door and listened to their gambling as they made their way to the car. Barb smirked at herself and she contemplated the fact that she still chose to enter the car and sit in it, despite the fact that she was incorporeal. Although, she did only seem to move at a similar pace to walking, so perhaps cars and other transportation were useful. _I still haven’t quite figured out exactly why I can still be bound by physical objects. I have to concentrate to move through solid objects but people, plants, and animals I seem to move through without even a thought. Maybe it has something to do with their being…alive?_ What she wouldn’t give for the ability to go to the library and research. She never felt more comfortable than curled up in her father’s recliner by the window, a large book spread open in her lap. _Can you look up information about hauntings under ghost in the Encyclopedia?_

They pulled up to the Wheeler household and Will hopped out before Jonathan had even turned off the car. “Whoa, slow down!” Will stopped abruptly and turned around, waving impatiently at his brother.

“Hurry! I see their bikes!”

“Coming, coming.” The Byers boys entered the house, wishing Mrs. Wheeler ‘Merry Christmas’ in unison before Will took off, his feet pounding down the basement stairs.

“What time should I come back and pick up Will, Mrs. Wheeler?”

Barb floated past the conversation, and glanced into the kitchen. Atop the counter were plates and plates full of cookies and fudge. She recognized her mother’s reindeer plate amongst them and dearly wished she could pick up one of the gingerbread men and eat it. _Mom always copes by baking even more furiously._ She felt as if her heart was caught in her throat, wishing once again that she could just go to her house and hug her mother. _I wish I could tell her I love her and dad and everyone one last time._

She heard Jonathan saying his goodbye and leaving, so she hurried out of the kitchen and flew through the door and followed him to the car. He seemed deep in thought during the drive. After arriving home, he rushed to his room with a brief ‘Hi’ to his mother on the couch. Barb followed, curious as to what was on his mind. The least she could do was distract herself before she allowed herself to fall into melancholy again. He moved to his desk and began rummaging around the drawers, pulling out boxes.

Barb drifted close to him, he was pouring over photographs. Shots of the woods, vacant lots, specific close ups of branches, a shadow falling across a brick wall; all shuffled together in a box. The next box was full of photographs set at the high school. She could see shots of students milling about, empty desks, the basketball court, and players on the field during a soccer game, so many. _I remember telling Nancy that he always had a camera around his neck, but I don’t think I realized how true that actually was_. He sorted through the pile before coming across what he was looking for. As she looked at the photograph she felt a jolt.

It was her and Nancy, their faces jubilant and holding up the medals draped around their necks. _That’s the day we won the Model UN Championship! I can’t believe it_. Barb remembered it so well.

She and Nancy had just started their sophomore year and had been perusing the bulletin board for anything extracurricular they could use to bolster their college applications. Suddenly, Nancy had exclaimed excitedly.

“Barb! Look! They’re making a Model UN, this could be it!” She pointed to the notice. Barb had quickly moved to glance at the notice. “I dunno Nance, stage fright is why we’re not trying out for drama.” Nancy clasped Barb’s hands in front of her and looked her directly in the eye.

“But this we can prepare for our way, we’re not playing a part, we’re using what we’ve researched! We can prepare and have all our note cards. How great will being a founding member of Model UN look on your CV for Brown?” Barb couldn’t help but feel entranced by Nancy’s enthusiasm and felt her own bubbling to the surface and her lips quirked into a small smile.

“Founding members?”

“They don’t fact check every detail on your CV.” Nancy smirked back at Barb and gave her hands a squeeze. Barb smirked back.

“Alright but we can’t let it affect our grades.” Nancy rolled her eyes and let go of Barb’s hands. She pulled out her agenda to mark the date and time. “Like I would ever let anything drop our GPAs.”

She remembered that she and Nancy were the youngest students, that very few people had joined and most were seniors. She remembered the hours she Nancy spent pouring over books and newspaper articles, debating each point until their arguments were ironclad.

They managed to make it to the end of the year finals, having enough wins and losses to just scrape by. The day of the state championships came. Barb’s mom was off in Nebraska, helping her brother move while Nancy’s mother had promised to go. But Holly and Mike had come down with the chicken pox and she couldn’t make it because Ted couldn’t take the time off of work. “It doesn’t matter, we probably won’t win anyways.” Nancy’s voice had trembled and Barb had slung her arm across Nancy’s small shoulders. “Well we didn’t prepare until 11pm every night for the last 2 weeks to lose. So I intend to win.”

She shook Nancy gently and smiled at her. “Comeon, its dream team time.” She puffed out her chest and spoke with bravado. Nancy’s face had broken into a wide smile. “We’ve got this.”

They had won, had snatched the victory despite their inexperience. The bus ride back to the school had been jubilant. Everyone was drunk on their success after an entire year of hard work and dedication. They had won medals and Nancy and Barb had each put them on proudly. The group walking into the school as if they owned the world.

And no one had cared. Barely anyone had spared a glance at the ragtag group. But it hadn’t mattered at the time, they were just so happy to have succeeded where they had been expected to fail. Their teacher had collected the medals, promising to have them displayed in one of the cabinets that lined the entrance hall. It was only once the girls had reached the Holland residence that it dawned on them that they hadn’t taken a single picture together with their medals.

Somehow, the medals had been lost, misplaced into some forgotten storage closet. And the seniors had graduated, taking with them over half of their entire group. Without them and not a single freshman to take their place, it all collapsed and Barb and Nancy had been left only with their single year and championship on their CVs.

Barb stared in wonder at the photograph in Jonathan’s hands. In it, she and Nancy smiled at one another, clutching their medals like they would disappear. She was sure he had no idea how important that day was to her and Nancy, how proud they’d been of their accomplishment, and how much anguish it had caused both of them to not have any tangible evidence of their victory. She could still feel the frustration about the lost medals curling in her gut.

She couldn’t even find him anywhere in her memory of that homecoming. She had no idea why he had chosen to capture that moment, why he was there in the hallway at that specific time. She felt tears trailing down her cheeks and briefly wondered what became of them when they dripped off her chin then shook her head at her foolishness.

Jonathan smiled softly and clutched the picture triumphantly. Glancing back over the box of photographs, Barb wondered how many small moments he had captured that held significance to others, and whether or not he realized that. _After all, it was because of his photographs that he and Nancy even figured out what happened to me._ If he wasn’t there, who knows if anyone would even have considered her disappearance anything other than the folly of a young woman _?_

Putting the photograph on his desk, Jonathan quickly shoved the rest back into their boxes and collapsed back onto his bed.

~*~

The rest of the holiday break passed in a whirlwind. Jonathan seemed to have picked up every shift possible and she found herself constantly following him back and forth to either the store or the Wheelers’ to pick up Will. She watched him play so many video games she felt as if she could give him a run for his money. She had memorized the prices of every item stocked in the small store Where Jonathan was employed; and knew that Frank, the manager, was having trouble with his mother’s medical bills. She knew that drug deals went down behind the store in the alley. Mostly marijuana, nothing too exciting. On Sunday, during his break, Jonathan had made his way down to the corner, into a store that Barb recognized as belonging to a woman her mother played mahjong with, Ruth Foote. She followed him into the store and noticed that Mrs. Foote and another woman, Mrs. Jenkins were gossiping across the counter.

She almost followed Jonathan down one of the aisles but caught “…I’m sure she ran away. But you know Martha, she won’t give up hope on Barbie coming home, the poor dear.” Ms. Jenkins simpered. Barb felt as if she had slammed into a brick wall. “Oh I agree, I’m sure she ran off to the West Coast. Martha just needs to move on and focus on her grandkids and her husband. I’m sure he has no patience for her delusions either.” Around Barb the temperature plummeted, both women could suddenly see their breaths.

“Don’t you have heating Ruth?” Ms. Jenkins looked at the woman at the cash register.

“Of course I do. I can’t figure out why it’s suddenly so cold.” She turned and looked at the thermostat, tapping at it sharply with her finger. _You bitches._ She thought viciously. _You gossipy old hags. You don’t know anything._ She wanted to reach out and grab one of those stupid crystal angels resting on the shelf and smash it on the ground. Mrs. Foote turned up the thermostat and shrugged her shoulders back at Ms. Jenkins. “Anyways, like I was saying, I heard from Janice at the Nursing Home that the older Holland boy was wanting to hire a private eye to go investigating…” The woman were interrupted by the loud sound of a throat being cleared. Both of the women and Barb turned to see Jonathan standing there, a box in his hand.

“I’d like to buy this.” He strode up to the counter and placed it in front of Mrs. Foote, moving to stand obtrusively between Ms. Jenkins and her. Both blinked owlishly at him for a minute before collecting themselves.

“Of course, that’ll be $11.23.” Jonathan handed her the cash and watched as she counted the change. Ms. Jenkins seemed to not quite know what to do, and Barb suddenly had a nasty thought. She floated herself slowly through the older woman’s body, feeling her shiver. _Take that you old cow._ Barb smirked as the woman glanced wildly about, pulling her coat as close to her form as possible. Jonathan collected his bag and brusquely walked out of the store, Barb following after one last glance back.

She allowed herself to cry in the car on the way home. Heaving sobs wracking her body as she circled through missing her family and feeling guilty for the trouble her missing body was causing. She fleetingly felt the rage boil up once more at having been in the wrong place at the wrong time before tamping it down. _Not this again._ She breathed in and out slowly, counting to ten, like Ashley had taught her the last time she visited. _Focus on calm thoughts_. Once she felt centered, she realized that Jonathan had parked his car and was already in the house. She made her way to Byers, feeling steady enough to not send the home into nuclear winter once again.

Barb wafted her way into the kitchen to find Jonathan seated at the table, fingers nimbly opening the back of the picture frame he had purchased at the store. He slipped the photograph into the frame, replacing the back before fastening it all in place. He took and appraising glance at it before standing up and walking over to his mother. He held out the framed picture to his mother and nibbled at his thumbnail pensively.

“What do you think?”

Joyce appraised it carefully as Barb circled around her. The frame was simple but elegant. It was silver with a swirl of gold meeting in the middle at the top and bottom in a scroll formation. The gold of the frame seemed to accentuate the medals clasped in their hands. Barb felt instantly that Nancy would love it. It looked so quintessentially her; understated and feminine. _He really has a good eye for this._ Barb marveled not for the first time. The air tightened around her again and she was thankful for the rush of hope that warmed her body, casting out the negativity from earlier.  

“I think it looks lovely honey. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.” Joyce smiled at her son before handing back the picture. Jonathan ducked his head down and grinned.

“Thanks mom. I’m gonna go work on Steve’s present now.”

“Oh? And what are you giving him?” Barb was intrigued. She couldn’t think of anything that richboy Steve could possibly want.

Jonathan’s grin turned Cheshire. “Better taste in music.” Joyce laughed lightly while Barb guffawed and followed him back to his room. He laid the picture on his bed while he poured over his tapes. He carefully contemplated over each, plucking out a few. Names of bands and singers that Barb barely recognized piled up. He glanced at his watch every so often as he began arranging and rearranging the tapes into distinct orders. At some point, Jonathan glanced at his watch and stood up. Barb trailed after him as he grabbed his coat and waved goodbye to his mother, who was bent over the oven looking bewildered. They were off once again to the Wheelers’ to pry Will away from his friends.

As soon as he entered the car, Will chatted excitedly about the latest campaign the boys had completed over the weekend, detailing the latest villain and how close Lucas had come to dying via dragon fire. His good mood continued right on through the dinner of overcooked meatloaf and soggy rice. After they were finished Jonathan begged off Will’s challenge of a rematch to a game they had battled at all Saturday morning, and headed back to his room. Barb stayed and watched as Will helplessly tried once again to teach his mother how to play his game console. Both mother and son were laughing uproariously at her failed attempts. Finally, Joyce shooed Will away, claiming utter defeat and humiliation. Will accepted graciously and wandered down the hallway. Barb joined him as he entered Jonathan’s room to find the young man pouring over his tape deck.

Will flopped down unceremoniously on his brother’s bed, rolling over onto his stomach, elbows bent and chin resting in his hands. After several minutes of observation he spoke.

“What are you doing?” Jonathan spared only a glance at his brother, still concentrating on his work.

“Making a mixtape.” Will perked up at this.

“For who?”

“Steve Harrington.”

Will scrunched up his nose. “Why?”

“Because he bought me that camera and he wouldn’t know good music if he got smashed in the head with Joe Strummer’s guitar.” Will laughed at that.

“I thought Nancy gave you the camera though.” Jonathan grimaced.

“She did, but it’s a really expensive model and I know she didn’t get it on her own. Plus, he broke my other one.” The second sentence was spoken with a mix of guilt and resignation. Will nodded thoughtfully.

“I guess that makes sense. What did you get Nancy?” Jonathan pointed at the picture on the bed and Will picked it up gently. Barb watched as his eyes scanned the photograph and widened. He dropped the frame as if it had burned him and gently pushed it away. “It’s of her and her friend, you knew Barbara right?” Will hummed in agreement and leant over the bed to pick up a tape from the floor and stare at it distractedly.

“She died in the Upsidedown, right?” Barb could detect a waver in his voice even as he worked hard to keep it steady.

“Yeah… the Demogorgon killed her.” Jonathan pursed his lips and frowned. After a moment, during which Barb could feel herself growing colder, he spoke again haltingly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help her.” He said guiltily. Barb softened at his words. Will pulled himself back up onto the bed and regarded his brother thoughtfully.

“Me too.” His voice was barely above a whisper. Barb’s heart clenched painfully, she knew he had been hiding somewhere on the other side too. _How could he have possibly helped me besides putting himself in danger?_ Jonathan regarded his brother carefully before ruffling his hair affectionately.

“Hey, it’s not on you ok? It’s not on any of us. It’s on those people that conducted those stupid experiments.” His voice was strong and authoritative. Will nodded but didn’t meet his brother’s eyes. Jonathan clasped Will’s chin and forced him to meet his eyes. “It’s not on you. You did what you had to do.” Will nodded again and Jonathan held his gaze until Will nodded more firmly. Then he released his breath and let his shoulders slump and hand fall.

“It’s not on you either.” Said Will, gazing at his brother after a long pause. “I don’t know what Mom would’ve done if it got you too.” Jonathan’s head dropped for a second, deep in thought. Barb watched as he allowed the tension to flow down his shoulders and into his left hand, gripping it in a fist that he hid from his brother before forcing his body to relax.

“Probably grab her axe and take out everyone in her way.” His lips pulled up at the corners in a knowing smile and Will responded with a thin chuckle.

“Yeah probably.” The brothers descended into contemplative silence, the weight of their secrets felt palpable. “She would take down Hopper first.” Will looked at his brother again, a smile breaking across his face as he tried his best to lighten their mood. Jonathan returned the smile.

“He wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Jonathan continued his work on the mixtape until finally declaring it as good as he could get it. He pulled out a marker from his desk drawer and hesitated before labeling it “Steve”. He held it out to Will, who examined it before handing it back.

“Looks good.” He nodded at his brother. Jonathan smiled.

“Yeah, now I just have to wrap them.” He gathered up the picture in the frame and the cassette and placed them gently on his desk. Will bit his lip and looked pensive. “What’s wrong?” Asked Jonathan, noting his brother’s face.

“It’s nothing.” Will shook his head and sat up, plastering on a smile.

Jonathan frowned. “Hey, you can tell me. We gotta help each other out right?”

“It’s gonna sound like I’m crazy.” Will said softly, shaking his head.

“Crazier than it sounds when we talk about the Upsidedown and monsters coming out of the wall?” asked Jonathan with his left eyebrow raised.

Will shrugged dismissively. “Kinda?”

“Try me.”

Will sighed heavily. “I’ve seen her.”

“Who?”

Will pointed at the picture on the desk. “I’ve seen Barbara. Here.” Barb felt everything in her grind to a sudden stop.

Jonathan stared at his brother.

“I’ve seen her in the mirror and I think I’ve see her reflection in the window. She looks like that sometimes,” he indicated to the picture, “but sometimes she looks all…Upsidedown-y.”

“When was the last time you saw her?” Jonathan looked at his brother intently.

“Yesterday, in the living room window, just for a brief second.” She felt as if she would vomit. Somewhere, another gear roared into movement and she felt her world lurch.


End file.
